


These Jersey Streets: Introducton

by went_z



Category: My Chemical Romance, frerard - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-03 16:12:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/went_z/pseuds/went_z
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank is a sixteen year old, drug/alcohol addicted teenager. He lives in a small house with his mom and his four year old son Gage. His addictions are effecting his and his mother's relationship.</p><p>Now that he's been kicked out of the house with no where to go and no money, what does he do? He goes around sleeping in old, abandoned house, graveyards and anything else that seems not in use.</p><p>He lives that life for about two weeks, then he finds the quiet and mysterious Gerard Way. Before Frank got expelled from smoking weed on campus (more than once), he saw Gerard in the hallways a bit. Gerard didn't have many friends and no one really seemed to notice him.</p><p>Gerard lets Frank and Gage stay with him for a while on one condition: Frank has to give up all his drug and alcohol addictions. Gerard promises Frank to help him clean up and get sober, but it's not all that easy for Frank.</p><p>As months pass and Frank is doing a bit better, Frank slowly falls for Gerard, and he knows Gerard's falling for him as well. Wanting nothing romantic to happen between him and Gerard, Frank leaves Gerard's house with Gage and starts doing drugs once again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Jersey Streets: Introducton

I'm sitting on the front steps of my mother's shitty, small house; just like every other house in this fucking state. I fucking hate it here, everything about it. The color of the outside, the yard, the rotting away fence, the rules and everything else this stupid house has. I'd move out in a heartbeat if I got the money to get a small apartment for me and my three year old son, Gage. 

Gage is the only reason why I still have a little sanity. When his mother, my ex-girlfriend Audrey, told me she was pregnant with him, she made it crystal clear she wanted no part of his life at all. She didn't want to see him after he was born, she didn't want to name him; hell, she didn't even want to hold him when he came. So I was the one who was going to raise him in a mature and pleasant adult. My mom was pissed that I got a girl pregnant at fourteen; but when he came, she seemed to drop all the fighting me and her did over the nine months and actually seemed glad that I screwed Audrey. 

I told myself while Audrey was pregnant with Gage I'd quit smoking and be a god role model for my son. But, a couple months after Gage was born, I got back into smoking. I don't remember how or why I did, I just did. Then as Gage got older, the cigarettes grew into stronger drugs; cocaine, cannabis, and sometimes LSD, only when I went out with friends every other Friday. Also, I started drink as well.

I wish I hadn't started doing drugs and alcohol, because now all my money goes towards my addictions. I'm seventeen years old and I still do chores around my mother's house because I can't get a fucking part time job. It's my fault, though. They see that I was expelled from three different high schools, two public and one private, for smoking and drinking on campus, fighting, vandalism, and talking back to teachers all the time; so they won't let me work at their business. Whatever; at least my mom pays me. 

I dig around in my hoodie pocket looking for my lighter, holding a pack of Marlboro in my other hand. "Daddy," I hear from the other side of the yard. I look over and see Gage standing there holding a big plastic ball in his little arms. "Play?" He says walking closer to me. 

I shake my head and continue my search for my red lighter. "Busy," I mumbled with a white and yellow stick between my chapping lips. 

"Please, you never play with me." He frowns, sitting in the grass and pushing the pink and white ball at my legs. 

"Maybe later," I find the lighter and light the cigarette between my lips, taking a deep drag.

Gage sighs. "You always say that and then you never do come and play with the ball, daddy. You're always doing those bad things that grandma tells me not to do. All I want to do is push the ball around with you."

I sigh and look down at my son. Big hazel eyes shimmering in the setting sunlight, and a pouty frown is where his usually big smile is. I nod my head a little and stomp the cigarette out on the yard grass and stand, picking up Gage to bring him to the back yard.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first writing piece since my grandfather died in early January and my mother recovered from surgery in early February. I hope you like it. c:


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